Franklyspeaking
by Ayashi Tetsuko
Summary: Monou Fuuma is tweeting.


**Frankly-speaking**

_Monou Fuuma is tweeting. _

Semi-AU / Rated T / Oneshot / Humor, Angst / Monou Fuuma , Yatouji Satsuki , OC / No spoilers / Owned by CLAMP

* * *

Don't you just love an easy dinner like this?

All you have to do is to call someone out there ("Your turn," says Yatouji Satsuki, your foul-mouthed flatmate), tell them what kind of pizza you would like to order, with what toppings, and then, about half an hour later, they shall be right outside your door. Then you can eat for as long as you want to, with the TV on, and when you're done, you just have to throw the remaining trashes away to the bin. To add extra pollution to the already over-polluted earth. Then watch it destroy itself with a full stomach.

Giggling to himself, Monou Fuuma realizes how ironically funny this fact is. While eating delivered meals and throwing its trashes out, he was actually doing something in his part to destroy the earth. How convenient. Very effortless.

Minutes later, he found himself sitting comfortably by the low table, while enjoying a bottle of Sapporo beer and laughing at a lame comedy show (for being lame, instead of being funny). Satsuki laid herself across the floor, almost hidden by the table. She was facing the window with one of her hands supporting her head, while the other one typing something on her smartphone with an almost goddess-like speed.

Suddenly, Fuuma had a better idea.

"Hey," he stretched out his leg under the table and tickled the girl's with his toes.

"What?" she lifted her head a bit. Just a little bit.

"Can I borrow your laptop?"

Satsuki actually stopped her magic fingers from typing, lifted up her head a little bit more, and turned towards Fuuma's direction, looking as if he just asked her to make love to him.

"No!" she answered, looking slightly annoyed.

"Why!?" Fuuma looked irritated.

"Just because," she muttered, returning to her previous position.

Fuuma sighed, but he was not going to give up that easily. He stretched his leg back to Satsuki's direction, tickling her legs again with his toes. "Please. Please. Pretty please?"

Looking as if she was going to crush the gadget she was holding on ("Gah!! Alright, alright! I got it!"), Satsuki got up and walked into the corner of their small flat, where her backpack was. She then returned with a white laptop in her hug, which Fuuma later excitingly greeted. But she refuse to hand it yet.

"Are your hands clean?"

"Yup."

"And they're not supposed to be wet. You just hold the beer bottles."

Fuuma wiped his hands dry with his old, white T-shirt, then smiling gleefully as she handed her laptop to him carefully, as if it was an Oscar and dropping it to the floor would bring serious detriments to the entertainment industry.

He then put the laptop on the low table, connected himself to the internet, and got himself lost in virtual journeys, while she returned to her side of the table, hands on her smartphone before she even got herself to sit.

_(commercial breaks)_

Fuuma really got himself lost in his virtual journey. Satsuki was a bit surprised to see that he was almost like herself when online, looking totally serious while the images on the computer screen reflected on his glasses. Sometimes he would smile at something there, sometimes he would get his fingers moving wildly on the keyboards. Sometimes he would just remain quiet. And his sight would only leave the screen when Satsuki left her spot and return with a duvet, wrapped herself in it, and laid herself on the floor again like a gigantic roll of sushi.

By the time he was actually checking out a new, popular social networking site where there are rows and rows of statements written by their users, who are smiling cheerfully in their profile pictures, right beside their statements (they called it 'tweets').

He clicked '_reply_' and wrote "_get well soon 3_" on Shirou Kamui's, where the young man wrote something like "_running out of pain killers… wounds aching like crazy_". He knew really well that Kamui refused to follow his account and would be mad at the comments he made, but he felt like making fun of him anyway. Then he scrolled down and found "Choc-chip ice cream. Anyone? :)" on Sakurazukamori's, which he immediately replied with "_I'M IN!! :D _".

Then he continued to scroll down, down, down until he found something that caught his sight.

_Walking towards the path of destruction with bleeding wrists, razor in hand_

It was written by an old friend, somebody named Yamada Takeshi. Even Fuuma does not remember him very well; they were once classmates in high school, but did not get to talk much.

He then clicked the profile picture on the side. It was a picture of a young man, looking much more geeky than Fuuma when he was in school; glasses so thick he cannot even see his eyes, unimpressive hairstyle, boring grey sweater. He was standing in a park, his shoulders hunched and his mouth curved into a U-turn.

Fuuma read the sentence one more time, trying to adsorb it. And when he did, he started to laugh. Really hard.

Still covered in duvet, Satsuki moved her smartphone away from her face. "And what was that for?"

"Nothing… someone wrote something funny," said Fuuma, trying to contain his excitement.

An "Oh" was all Satsuki could afford now.

Fuuma then put his attention back into the computer screen, and took a deep long breath.

_Very funny. What a funny, stupid, pitiful guy._

He shook his head, his handsome face looked troubled.

_You shouldn't be so sad going on a path of destruction. You should be happy!_

_For, only after destruction…_

He took a deep breath.

_A rebirth could happen._

The Dark Kamui gave his trademark cunning smile.

He started to lick his upper lip, his caramel eyes glinted, thinking of fun ways to get his message across to the pitiful guy. He then stared at the ceiling, then at the giant-Satsuki-roll on the floor. Then his smile grew.

He clicked 'reply', and his fingers started to dance on the keyboards.

_YamadaTakeshi: while me walking to the path of destruction with a cup of frozen yoghurt in hand!_

_(commercial breaks)_

Fuuma closed his flatmate's laptop. "Seriously, you don't know how much I owe you for doing this."

"I know," Satsuki muttered, still unable to look away from the stupidphone (the phone had its intelligence being adsorbed away while being stared at).

Fuuma sighed. "But this is indeed a great day! No work, great food…."

He pushed the laptop away, and started to stretch himself. _And me being funny. Ah. Tee hee hee._

"I had so much fun."

"Good for you."

Fuuma then took a gulp from a beer bottle. "To top it all, a good f-ck would be great."

Satsuki made unclear mumbling noises. She kicked the duvet away, and made an effort to get up. While she was doing this, Fuuma suddenly got an idea.

"Hey. Let's do it. Let's make love."

Then Satsuki looked as if Fuuma just asked her to lend him her laptop.

**~OWARI~**

There it is ^^ Another attempt to be funny.

Okay, I know it's weird to have Satsuki living in Fuuma's flat… and I don't even know why I did it. The idea just got into my head, and I cant let it go. They felt fun to be put together. So I risked myself being hunted down my Yuuto fans out there by trying to do this.

So, hope it works. Please R&R! All constructive criticisms are welcomed! Flamers, please go back to whatever place in hell you did come from!


End file.
